Uncertainty
by Eydie Munroe
Summary: In the Alpha Quadrant, Voyager is missing, and Admiral Janeway is leading a delegation to the planet where it was headed to. A response to the 2015 VAMB Secret Summer Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Uncertainty  
by Eydie Munroe**

Disclaimer: Yes, they're not mine. No, I am not making any money from this. Yes, I do this for fun. No, I don't at all want to find a loophole which would force Paramount/CBS to give them to me.

Author's Note: My response to VAMB's 2015 Secret Summer Challenge. PiOneOneZero's prompt: _"I'd really like a J/C happy ending story, which features the following quote: "Maybe one day we'll find that place where you and I could be together. And we'll catch our dreams within the waves of change. So smile for me one last time and believe that we'll meet again. Until then I'll be missing you" R. . How you use it and the rest of the story are up to you :-)_ Special thanks to Hester for her stellar beta services. Enjoy!

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Kathryn Janeway sat at her desk, her chin cradled in her hand as she looked at the computer terminal. She was unable to sleep, which was certainly not unusual. But the reason for her insomnia was. She sat back in the chair, sighing to herself as she let her eyes slide closed. It was the first peace her heart had known in weeks, and that her body and mind had known in days. With the most recent crisis over, she tried to relax, but she was just too keyed up to be able to.

Her mind wandered, and her gaze eventually followed it to the figure that lay sleeping in her bed. His face, newly healed, was relaxed in slumber, the lines around his eyes and mouth easing for the first time in weeks. _He's certainly earned it,_ she thought to herself, a small frown crossing her own features. Thoughts of Chakotay prompted her to her feet, and she moved silently to stand in the doorway. And as she watched him sleep, she wondered just how in the world they managed to get here.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a miserable November day. San Francisco was dreary and overcast, the fog having just barely lifted half an hour before. Admiral Kathryn Janeway had been staring through her window, as far away from Starfleet Command as the mists would allow. She had sent a crew to their deaths, unknowingly to all of them. She'd had the utmost faith in the captain and his crew, confident that he would be able to handle yet another important mission without incident. But after two weeks of waiting for a check-in, Command had sent out a reconnaissance vessel to find out what happened. When it arrived, there was no trace of the Federation ship…only dust.

Much as she tried not to show it, it hurt like hell. Losing people had been bad enough when she was their captain. It was more personal then; she interacted with them on a regular basis, and in their insane situation in the Delta Quadrant, got to know them more intimately than she ever would have at home. But this, while different, magnified her guilt. She'd been the one to send them out. It was her orders that they followed without question, proud to be on their ship and trying to make a difference. And on top of that, it had the distinction of being the first vessel lost during peacetime.

 _Such a fucking waste._

Turning away from the window, she picked up the mug that was sitting on her desk and took a sip, barely keeping herself from slamming it back down when she found its contents cold. Tears seemed to be threatening, and she fought to keep them contained. _Admirals don't cry!_ she reminded herself harshly, nails digging into her palms as her fists clenched.

The sound of a knock on the door broke her out of her misery, though just barely. "Come in."

Her assistant, Lieutenant Davis, strode into the room, padds in one hand and a cup in the other. He wordlessly put the mug down in front of her, then started to lay the padds down between them. "The latest statistics from Utopia Planetia…" he declared after the first one, "and the updated draft of your speech to the Federation council on extending diplomatic ties to New Talax."

Grateful both for new work to dig into and coffee to keep her going, she reached for a padd and the mug at the same time. "Are you a mind reader, Davis?"

He straightened up. "It's my job, isn't it?"

The admiral nodded. "And you're very good at it." Taking a swallow, she noted how he'd gotten it just right. "Any further word from the Gilmore?"

"No, Admiral. But Captain Tracey said that she was going to be expanding the search area once the Talbot and L'Carr arrive."

She sighed. "More ships isn't going to help."

Even though he'd only been working for her a short time, Evan Davis could see the telltale signs of sadness and depression closing in on his boss. He'd learned that she gave him a certain amount of latitude in their interactions, so he decided to go for something that would snap her out of her funk. "Would you prefer platitudes or commiseration?"

As he expected, fire flashed in her eyes as they snapped back up to him. "That's not funny, Lieutenant."

"It wasn't meant to be, Admiral." Softening his stance, he continued with, "There could be any one of a million reasons why Voyager hasn't reported in yet."

"And one pretty good one for why they haven't," she shot back.

Part of him wanted to smile, seeing that she was back into her fighting stance, but he kept it to himself. "Voyager's gone missing before and come back."

The irritation that had built up in her dissolved as memories flooded her, and she slumped back into her chair. "It's not a cat with nine lives, Evan."

He did smile this time, one filled with kindness. "No. But two is more than most ships get."

Looking at him, she saw an optimism that she knew was missing from her own life. "Maybe."

Taking his cue, Lieutenant Davis turned around and started to leave, but then stopped and whirled back. "Don't forget you're meeting Admiral Paris in two hours."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she replied, her tone a dismissal.

He left, closing the door behind him, dropping her into silence once more. She sat there, staring into space, for some time before she became aware that she had work to do, and so she leaned forward to pick up the padd with the speech draft. But her mind wandered as she started to read, and her gaze eventually fell on the framed picture of her senior staff from Voyager that had been taken at Neelix's Ancestors' Eve party. Putting the speech down, she got up and went over to where the frame sat on a shelf near the other window, and took it into her hands. It seemed like it had just been a few days before, not a few years, and they'd all changed a lot since then. Neelix was a respected leader in his new home, a husband and father to a new baby girl. Tuvok was now serving on the Titan with T'Pel, exploring unknown space on purpose this time. The rest of them were back on Voyager, under Chakotay's leadership, but even now were different than they had been the first time around. Tom was the first officer, Harry in charge of Security, B'Elanna still running engineering but now also a mother of a very spirited young girl. And Seven was still doing what she did best, though now balancing her work with a relationship with the ship's counsellor.

Then there was Chakotay. Her best friend. Her would-be paramour. Would have been, had fate and the Delta Quadrant not intervened. He was the kindest man that she knew, and she was so happy the day that she'd been authorized to offer him Voyager. He'd been uncertain about his future, and whether or not he should even stay within the confines of Starfleet. Taking control of her ship had made him feel honoured, and he told her so the night she offered it to him.

 _"I can't believe that they actually want me," he said, setting his drink down on the table._

 _"Of course they do," she told him, smiling brightly as she readjusted her position on the couch next to him. "You know her better than anybody."_

 _He looked at her. "Except for you."_

 _She laughed. "Yes, well…seven years of crawling through Jeffries tubes trying to keep her together for one more day might have something to do with that."_

 _The laughter faded away, leaving them in companionable silence. Suddenly he said, "She's your legacy."_

 _Just the idea of her having a legacy stopped Kathryn in her tracks. She considered what he said for a moment, then quietly replied, "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have take care of her than you."_

 _He flushed with embarrassment, his gaze falling to his lap. When he finally did look at her again, he was stone serious. "I'll do everything I can to keep her safe." Reaching over to take her hand, he vowed, "I promise."_

 _She grasped the other so that both sets of hands were joined. "I know you will."_

 _They gazed at one another, discovering a moment that they had both thought long gone, and very gently, she leaned forward and kissed him._

That kiss had been the start of their one and only night together, one where they shed their uniforms and their baggage and finally let themselves be the people who they wanted to be. Kathryn could still feel the touch of his hands across her body, the weight of him against her, as if it were just yesterday. They'd parted the next morning with no definite plans, but with the knowledge that they would be together again as soon as their schedules allowed. But that had been six weeks ago. And now he, along with everyone else, was missing. She tried to tell herself not to jump to conclusions, that Voyager had gone missing before and come back. But doubt was starting to creep in, and try as she might, she was having a hard time keeping up hope.

 _Well,_ she thought grimly, _at least he lasted longer before his ship disappeared than I did._


	3. Chapter 3

"What's the status of our weapons?"

Harry Kim grimaced as he looked to the captain at the head of the table. "We're down to six photon torpedoes, and phasers are at twenty-two percent."

Chakotay resisted the urge to groan. They had been at forty-three at last report. "What happened since yesterday?"

"The damage to the auxiliary generators caused a power drain in the phaser array," B'Elanna filled in for her friend. "It's fixed now, but it's going to take time to regenerate the power cells there."

"How long?"

Her optimism dimmed a bit. "At least nineteen hours."

"Slipstream?"

She huffed. "Still inoperative. We're working on it, but getting the power systems online had to take first priority."

The captain sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "Any sign of our friends?"

Lieutenant Waters shook his head. "Nothing on sensors, though those are at limited range."

Tom asked, "Time since they last appeared on sensors?"

"Eleven hours," Waters replied.

Looking to Chakotay, the first officer said, "It's a safe bet that we're going to see them again soon."

Their leader nodded. "Undoubtedly. And even if our distress signal got out, we've been playing cat and mouse with these guys for so long that we're nowhere near where we sent it from."

"Could we sneak the Flyer out to go for help?" the Doctor asked.

"It would be a suicide mission," Counsellor Cambridge interjected. "There's no way they could get past that many ships in one piece."

"We'll have to wait and see how big their fleet is the next time they appear on sensors," Chakotay stated, knowing that the number of ships in the mystery fleet had been gradually declining with each encounter. "I won't launch the Flyer unless we can provide enough cover fire for them, and right now, we're in no position to do it." He looked around at his senior staff. "Our priority is to get back into fighting condition before we're attacked again."

They all understood. They had been enroute to Daltrea IV, a world just outside Federation space that had been considering petitioning to join, to follow up on the initial diplomatic visit which Admiral Janeway had led three months earlier. Within just a few hours of the planet, they were jolted out of warp by some sort of subspace mine. That had caused enough damage, but as soon as they had dropped to subspace, Voyager was attacked by a fleet of thirty ships that, each being about half the size of the Delta Flyer, carried enough combined firepower to overpower the refitted Intrepid-class ship. There had been no warning or words, just an abrupt barrage of fire against them. If it hadn't been for Tom's tactical orders to their new chief pilot, Christina Henz, they would have been destroyed. And for the past two weeks, they'd been on the run, desperately trying to find places to hide and conduct repairs while trying to find a tactical advantage so they could escape back to friendly territory. The only thing that had been going their way was that the fleet pursuing them had been slowly decreasing, and the last time they appeared, they were down to twenty-two ships.

"We'll stay here as long as we can to continue repairs," Chakotay told them, "but tell your staff to be prepared to take off at a moment's notice." Seeing the nods of agreement, he announced, "Dismissed."

Everyone filed out, leaving the captain behind. He sat there at the table, thinking about the number of times that they had met in crisis here over the years. They'd always managed to squeak through one way or the other, and being alone in the fight with an unknown aggressor was certainly nothing new. But he was exhausted, barely getting a few hours of sleep in the thirteen-hour intervals between attacks, and he was beginning to understand why Kathryn had endured so many sleepless nights.

He smiled to himself when she popped up in his mind. They'd finally managed to get it right the night she offered him Voyager, and it had been everything he'd ever dreamed of. No one was more surprised than he was when she kissed him – he'd figured that he'd destroyed any chance of their coming together after dating Seven, even if it had been only for a few weeks. Instead, he'd found them still wanting one another, and he was looking forward to seeing his lover again, to hopefully establish a full-scale relationship with her instead of just one night.

 _That's if I ever get out of here…_ he reminded himself, forcing his tired legs to carry him back out to the bridge.


	4. Chapter 4

It was well past midnight by the time Kathryn made it home that night. The meeting with Admiral Paris had run long, and as a result, the rest of her day had been thrown well back of its schedule. She had finished her speech, but the report from Utopia Planetia had had caused more problems than it solved, meaning an impromptu trip out to the shipyard that afternoon. She'd missed the dinner she'd scheduled with her mother, but truth be told, she really hadn't been in the mood to go anyway. Voyager's disappearance was weighing more heavily on her than even she realized; it had consumed her thoughts in the four hours of travel to Mars and back, and no amount of distraction would shift it.

After shutting the door, she started to drop items as she made her way upstairs. Briefcase…jacket…boots…shirt… She was down to just pants and a bra by the time she actually made it to her bedroom, where she immediately headed into the ensuite to run a bath. Kathryn sat down on the edge as she tested the water coming out of the faucet, and again memories of Chakotay washed over her. They had bathed here together after the first time they made love, spending more than an hour just talking and touching and enjoying the fact that they were actually together. But his disappearance was weighing too heavily on her this night, so she shut off the water and instead opted to try and go straight to sleep.

She walked back into the well-appointed bedroom, yawning heavily as she reached for the satin nightgown that she'd draped across the foot of the bed that morning. Running her fingers along it just for a moment, she started to lift it above her head when something on the mantle caught her attention. It was another frame, this time protecting a white card with silverish-blue script:

 _"Maybe one day we'll find that place where you and I could be together. And we'll catch our dreams within the waves of change. So smile for me one last time and believe that we'll meet again. Until then I'll be missing you."_

 _\- R.M. Drake_

It was followed by handwritten black ink:

 _Last night was the beginning of the rest of our lives. I love you, and am so glad that I can now say so. – C_

It had come with the flowers he'd sent her that day. Now alone, and unable to hold back any longer, tears started to run down Kathryn's cheeks. They'd finally had managed to get it together, and now it looked like everything was over before it really got a chance to start. She braced her hand against the mantle, leaning heavily against it as she let herself cry for the first time since they missed check-in. Kathryn couldn't believe that he was gone, that it had happened to her for the third time. Her heart was breaking, her head filled with questions of why and how, none of which would change anything.

As her tears slowed, Kathryn thought she heard something. Picking her head up, she waited until she heard it again – the beep of her communication console in the office. Throwing on her robe and hastily wiping her face, she made her way down the hall, flipping on the lights as she went. Out of all the things that she could expect to happen at any hour as an admiral, receiving calls this late at night actually wasn't one, so she knew it would have to be important. Hoping that she looked halfway presentable, she sat down and activated the screen, seeing the incoming call was from Admiral Nechayev. Keying in her code, the fleet admiral's image came up, also dressed in a bathrobe. "Alynna?"

 _"I hope I didn't wake you."_

Janeway shook her head. "No, I was just getting ready for bed."

 _"Good. I have some news,"_ her superior announced. _"We just got a call from the Daltrean government. Apparently, they've come under attack by a fleet of what they call cast-offs – members of their population who have an issue with the government petitioning to join the Federation."_

Kathryn frowned. "They never mentioned this during the assessment visit."

 _"Believe me, I'm less than impressed. During the last attack, the leader of this fleet apparently took the time to taunt the government by telling them that they'd already run off a Starfleet ship, and that it would only be a matter of time before they destroyed it."_

For the first time since this all started, Kathryn felt a shred of hope. "Voyager?"

Nechayev nodded. _"My guess is that they were trying to frighten the government into believing they had the power to destroy cities, and therefore to stop negotiations with the Federation."_

"But where would a people who only achieved warp flight five years ago manage to lay their hands on ships with that sort of firepower?" Kathryn wondered aloud.

 _"Your guess is as good as mine. So far, that's the only information we've gotten. Hopefully K'itar will be able to provide more."_

"When did they receive the message?"

 _"Two days ago."_

Kathryn's brain started moving in a flurry. "So there's a chance that they're still pursing them?"

 _"That's the hope. I'm moving the Gilmore, Talbot and L'Carr from their current search mission to an active search for this fleet and for Voyager."_ The other admiral paused for just a moment. _"You are going to Daltrea to reassure the government that we're doing everything possible to find these aggressors, and to find out why K'itar didn't bother to disclose that information. The flagship will be at your disposal."_

Janeway nodded. "When do we leave?"

 _"The Enterprise is enroute, so they're scheduled to arrive by about noon tomorrow."_

"Understood."

Expecting her superior to sign off, Kathryn was surprised when she didn't. _"Kathryn, don't give up hope just yet. Chakotay is a smart one – if he can find a way, he'll figure out how to elude them."_

Kathryn smiled. Despite her cold exterior, Alynna Nechayev had developed a soft spot for the Voyagers when they returned. She had also shown a lot of faith in both Kathryn and Chakotay. She smiled a little. "Thanks Alynna."

 _"I'll send the message and the information from the Daltrean government so that you have it first thing. President K'itar will be waiting to hear from you. But…"_ The admiral gave her a bit of a smile. _"He also understands that you need to sleep, Kathryn."_

Now Janeway couldn't help but laugh. Her inability to sleep had been one of the things that she'd bonded with K'itar over on her visit with the Federation delegation. Some of their best discussions had been very late at night, after all of their associates had long dropped off to bed. "I'll do my best. I'll also contact him once we're underway."

 _"Perfect. Keep me informed. Goodnight, Kathryn."_

The screen winked off, and Kathryn stared at her reflection on its dark surface for a few moments as everything sank in. It was the first good news that she'd had in days, and despite her best efforts, her heart was starting to sing again. _Please be okay…_ she directed to the universe as she moved to get ready for bed. _Please be okay._


	5. Chapter 5

"Incoming!"

"Brace for impact!"

Chakotay barely got the words out before the torpedo hit them, sending a few people who couldn't prepare in time flying across the bridge. "Return fire!"

Harry fired phasers yet again, hitting a number of the small vessels that were swarming around them. "Their average shield strength is down to sixty-two percent."

"Find the lowest one and concentrate all fire there," the captain ordered.

"I'm showing an overload in this one," Waters announced, throwing the identifier information on the viewscreen at the same time he transferred the coordinates to Lieutenant Kim.

"Give it all you've got, Harry!" Chakotay charged.

A bright stream of phaser fire was out in a second, and Waters' find was as he said, the small ship exploding in a spectacular fireball. It was the first time that Voyager had been able to destroy one of the ships, and it had an immediate effect. "They're breaking off to regroup," Paris reported from his console.

Chakotay's eyes were glued to the viewscreen. "Again. Find the next weakest one and go after them."

The tactic worked two more times, lessening the fleet down to eighteen vessels before they finally jumped to warp. Voyager was left hanging in space, venting plasma from its starboard nacelle and floating amongst a small sea of debris. "Damage report," Chakotay called out.

"Phasers are down to thirty-two percent," Harry called out from the tactical station. "Shields at twelve percent."

"Hull breaches on Decks Three and Twelve," Waters reported, "but forcefields are holding. Sickbay reports twenty-two injured, but none seriously."

"Thank god for small favours," Tom mumbled.

Chakotay nodded his agreement. "Get repair crews started on it. Bridge to Engineering."

 _"Torres here, Captain. I hope you're not planning on going fast anytime soon."_

He got to his feet. "What can you give me, B'Elanna?"

 _"Warp two is the best we can do at this point."_

"Understood. Mister Paris, you have the bridge."

Chakotay made his way to the turbolift, which he rode down to Sickbay. As he found his own stride as captain, he discovered that visiting the injured after a battle seemed to provide a small measure of comfort to most of them, and to let them know that he hadn't forgotten about them in the grand scheme of things. He certainly hadn't. It had been many years since he'd been a captain, but in the Maquis, there was barely time to survive, let alone take time out to visit wounded. Now, as captain of Voyager, he made the time, and he understood Kathryn Janeway a little more with each battle. Just the thought of her made him long for their night together, and even for the old days when she was in command of Voyager. He missed her terribly, and would have liked nothing more than to crawl into bed where he could dream about her. As the lift slowed and the doors eventually opened, he brought his mind back to the present, pushing aside his wants for the needs of the moment.


	6. Chapter 6

"Admiral Janeway. Welcome on board the Enterprise."

She looked from the transporter pad to find her welcoming committee. "Thank you, Captain." Stepping down, Kathryn took the hand that one of her newest friends offered. Looking up to his first officer, she said, "Buy' la' Dalegh jatlhqa'."

Worf's eyebrows raised, obviously impressed. "'Aj batlh jIHvaD SoH."

Picard smiled, also having understood the greeting they just exchanged. Directing his attention to Worf, he told him, "Commander, please show the admiral's aide to his quarters."

"Aye, sir."

Once Worf and Davis were gone, the captain escorted her out into the corridor. "It's good of you to come all the way back to Earth to pick us up," the admiral said as they walked.

"Well, since we had our slipstream drive installed, it certainly makes the trip easier." With the driest delivery, he added, "Thank you for that, by the way."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Any time." They stepped into a nearby lift. "Our ETA at Daltrea?"

"Two days and fifteen hours."

"Hmmm…certainly beats the month and a half it would have taken with just warp drive."

"Indeed." They rode in silence for a bit. "Have you heard anything further?"

Kathryn folded her arms across her chest. "We got word late this morning that the Talbot discovered residual weapons fire about thirty-two light years away from Daltrea – appeared to have happened within the last week. So they've moved the centre of their search grid there." She paused. "Hopefully it will be the clue they need."

He turned and looked at her, seeing the concern that she wore. "And you?"

She leaned one shoulder against the wall. "I'm going to reassure the Daltrean president that we can help them solve the problem with these 'cast-offs'." Kathryn sighed. "We certainly can't afford to lose any more allies – even potential ones."

"Or any more starships," he added quietly.

Kathryn could see the concern in his expression, and she was thankful for it. Jean-Luc had been one of her staunchest supporters during her reacclimation, someone who had seen and done as many strange, wonderful, and downright terrifying things as a captain as she had. He had protested the loudest when Starfleet was threatening to court martial her over some of what happened in the Delta Quadrant, and helped convinced the more skeptical admirals on her review board that they were full of hot air, and that they couldn't possibly understand what she'd gone through.

She decided to change the subject. "How's Beverly?"

"Well," he replied, seeing the tactic for what it was. "She's expecting you for dinner tonight."

The admiral huffed a laugh. "I think I can arrange that. I doubt I'll be much company though."

"That's never stopped us before."

Her jaw dropped. He'd done it to her again. Jean-Luc Picard had a sly sense of humour that he didn't bring out very often, but she was more than pleased that she was one of the few to see it. "You're terrible."

He was saved from answering her by the opening of the lift doors.


	7. Chapter 7

Chakotay strode into Engineering, stepping over debris that hadn't been cleared yet. He spotted Torres buried underneath a console, her arm reaching out to a green young ensign who was assisting her. "B'Elanna?"

"Just a minute!" came her muffled reply. A loud clang followed a few moments later, trailed by a string of Klingon cursing. She slid along the deck until she was clear, then sat up. "Fres, see if you can get that relay stabilized."

"Me?" he choked out.

"Am I talking to anyone else?" she growled.

Chakotay felt for the man. He'd only been under B'Elanna's careful tutelage for about a month or so, and he obviously hadn't stopped shaking yet. The captain hid a smile when the ensign responded with a crisp, "Yes, sir!"

Figuring he'd save the youngster some grief, he laid a hand on Fres' shoulder. "The chief engineer prefers to be addressed as Commander, Ensign." Fres seemed to visibly relax a little. _Probably because he's not afraid I'm going to break his nose,_ Chakotay thought. Now stepping forward to offer his hand to B'Elanna, he questioned, "Do you have a report for me?"

She let him pull her to her feet, absently wiping her fingers on her trousers as she straightened up. "Does it matter? As soon as I fix something, these bastards just blow it apart anyway." He frowned at her, so she re-evaluated her approach. "The warp core is stabilized enough to get you to warp five, but the slipstream is still out. Our replicators just aren't large enough to recreate the casing."

"It's that bad?" he asked as they slowly made their way through Engineering.

She nodded. "It isn't just fractured – it's shattered. It's full of hairline fractures that will take about four solid days to repair manually. But we can't even get near it because of all the more critical repair work." She heaved a sigh. "At least it's not leaking any radiation. It's just inert."

They circled the centre column, where the dormant slipstream component was a dull grey that encircled the blue flowing warp core. "I'll take what I can get, B'Elanna." He rested his hands on the railing that surrounded the core. "How's Miral doing?"

"She's okay. Doesn't like being bundled off to Sickbay every time we come under attack, but she likes all the shuddering and jumping around that the ship does."

He smiled. "She's going to be a daredevil, that one."

"Don't I know it. She just barely walks, but I've already caught her almost diving off the couch twice." Seeing how haggard her friend was looking, she asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Torres laughed. "What is that, the standard Starfleet captain's response?"

He smiled for what felt like the first time in days. "I learned from the best." His thoughts drifted back to Kathryn for just a moment. "I just hope our signal got out before they fried the communications array."

Vorik handed her a padd as he walked past, which she scrolled through. "Well, Sue's team seems to have it about fifty percent operational. We might be able to get something out if it holds at seventy-five."

He nodded. "Keep on it. I want to send a call to the fleet as soon as we can."

"Yes, sir." She started to go back to check on Fres, but then decided to give the kid a break and instead turned around and headed back to check on the weapons relays.


	8. Chapter 8

"Admiral Janeway!"

She had barely materialized in the foyer of the presidential structure before President K'itar had grabbed her into a bear hug. "I am very glad to have you here again, Kathryn," he exclaimed as he shook her ever so slightly.

The admiral tried not to grimace at the strength of his hold, especially since she knew that it was the traditional greeting for visitors, and that she really was one of his favourite people. "I wish it was under better circumstances, K'itar."

He finally released her, his happiness suddenly vanished. "So do I." Turning to lead her toward his offices, he told her, "I do not know what to say, Kathryn. We thought we had settled this cast-off matter."

"Who are these people?"

He pushed the button to call an elevator. "They are people who choose to live separate from the rest of our population. We offer them everything that every citizen is entitled to under Daltrean law, but they turn their noses down at it." K'itar looked to her. "That is the human phrase, is it not?"

Janeway gave him a kind smile. "Close. It's 'turn their noses _up_ at it'. And why do they do that?"

The elevator car arrived, and he closed the gate behind them so they could start to ascend. Its open air design gave them a full view of the capital city, accompanied by the sweet smells of flora and fresh air. "Some individuals just cannot appreciate things that will bring them happiness. We've laboured long and hard to ensure that every citizen has food, water and shelter, along with a society that allows them to pursue their interests and talents without having to sacrifice time at menial labour. It is something that we strove to reach for centuries. But after two hundred years of stability, a faction has formed that openly rejects these essentials."

The story was one that she'd certainly heard before. "And they believe that living within your society means toeing the line."

K'itar scratched his chest, a Daltrean sign of confusion. "Toeing the line?"

"It means doing what's expected of you."

He considered the phrase. "Yes, I think that is a very good analogy."

They exited out onto his floor, briskly walking to his office. Its simplicity never failed to amaze the admiral. This was the leader of an entire planet, and yet the government headquarters, which on other worlds would be a palace or legislature of some kind, was only four floors, with a footprint smaller than some houses on Earth. His staff numbered less than a dozen, and his security guards only two. Kathryn had questioned him on it during the diplomatic team's initial visit, but they'd never had an incident that facilitated a need for anything more.

Once they were safely ensconced in his office, she gave it to him, point blank. "So why did you not mention these cast-offs to us when we visited last time?"

K'itar's dark skin lightened slightly. "Well Admiral…we are new to this thing of galactic diplomacy. We are eager to join your Federation, and we wanted to show you our best qualities."

She regarded him sternly as she sat in the chair next to the window. "It is the Federation's policy to only admit worlds whose governments and societies are unified, Mister President. I made that point clear in our last meetings."

"Yes, of course." He thought about how to phrase his response. "Kathryn, we did not intentionally deceive you about the cast-offs. It was our sincere belief that the situation had been solved. We had negotiated a truce with them just two cycles before our first contact with your ship Chambers. They accepted our offer of their own state where they could choose to live as they please, with the freedom to transition to our society – and back again – should they want to."

Janeway calculated the timeline in her head. "That was three years ago. What happened to change things?"

"We don't know. All reports we had were that they were doing well and were content. But it appears to be a small group of dissidents that are stirring up trouble just for the sake of it. They seem to have been influenced by an outsider – a Romulan, I'm told – who is making trouble."

Her gut clenched. "Have you confirmed that?"

K'itar shook his head, a gesture he picked up from Kathryn during her first visit. "No. It appears to be a rumour, though it would explain much."

Kathryn resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Have you heard anything further from them?"

"A few hours before you arrived." He picked up his own data pad and started to read. "Your ship will soon be destroyed…it's only a matter of time until we find them….then there will be nothing left but dust. Keep Starfleet away, and perhaps we may let them live."

"Then there's a chance they may still be alive…" she murmured.

K'itar's hearing was excellent, however. "Who?"

Realizing her slipup, Kathryn resumed her stern visage. "The ship that your cast-offs are pursuing is Voyager."

The president's face flushed light again. "Your previous ship?" At her nod, he dropped the pad to the table between them and raised his hands in the air. "My most sincere apologies, Kathryn…I had no idea!"

She reached for his hands and pulled them down until he rested them in his lap again. "Right now I want you to tell me everything you can about these cast-offs, and how unrestricted your off-world communications have become."


	9. Chapter 9

"They're late," Commander Paris announced as he strode into the ready room.

Chakotay looked up from his terminal. "It's been thirteen hours already?"

"Uh huh. If these guys are one thing, it's punctual." The first officer sat down in one of the chairs. "The crew is starting to get discouraged."

"They're not the only ones." Chakotay spun the terminal around so they could both look at it. "Seven has been scouring the next fifty light years trying to find us a decent hiding place, but it's not looking promising."

Tom cursed under his breath. "Even with destroying those last three ships, we can't keep taking these beatings."

"If you have any bright ideas, now's the time, Paris."

He paused, almost hesitant to state his plan. "Let me take the Flyer."

The captain shook his head. "We're still not strong enough to provide cover."

"And we're not going to be anytime soon," Paris pressed on. "If we keep running, the cavalry is never going to find us. And they're going to keep hunting us until we've got nothing left."

He was obviously committed to the idea and, more to the point, he was right. Chakotay looked at the younger man with a critical eye. "B'Elanna is going to take it out on me if anything happens to you."

Tom smiled. "Well, I guess I better be sharp then."

Chakotay returned it, but only briefly. "Alright, go ahead, Tom. Take Ayala and Vorik with you."

"Aye, sir." Paris got to his feet. "I'll be back with help before you know it."

"Good luck." He watched as his first officer, and still the best pilot on Voyager left, and hoped like hell that he didn't just sentence the young man to death.


	10. Chapter 10

When Admiral Janeway strode onto the bridge of the Enterprise, she looked immediately to the head of Ops. K'itar's people had provided the raw data from the cast-offs' transmissions, which she had forwarded on to Commander Kadohata for analysis.

"Admiral," the commander greeted her from her spot standing at one of the back science stations.

"Any progress?" Janeway questioned as she walked over.

"Nothing so far. They're using such a weak and obscure bandwith that it's difficult to find it as it fades in subspace." Kadohata turned to face her superior before she dropped a small bomb. "It's actually radio signals."

While not at Tom Paris's level of expertise, Kathryn Janeway knew enough history to know what those were. "Radio signals?"

"Or this planet's version of them." Bringing up a new display on the screen, Miranda pointed out the details. "The signal is degrading rapidly – for something that was sent only two days ago, there's barely traces of it left. It does give us a general idea of a direction, but we can't narrow the field down to less than a width of one hundred light years."

Kathryn felt her heart begin to sink, but this wasn't the time. "Is it a frequency that we would find on our normal sensor sweeps?"

"No, Admiral. We wouldn't know it was there if we weren't looking for it."

Janeway nodded. "Keep at it, Commander. The captain?"

"In his ready room, Admiral."

After gaining admittance, she walked directly over to where Picard was seated behind his desk. "We may have a bigger problem than we originally thought."


	11. Chapter 11

Chakotay sat in the captain's chair, chin resting on his fist as he watched the currently uneventful viewscreen. He'd gotten an updated assessment of their status just as Paris departed the bridge, and it didn't look promising. They were holding steady for the moment, but their overall average was at less than half of normal operating parameters. The repeated stings from this fleet were wearing them down, and they needed help. Their fleet was overdue by more than three hours now, and his gut was telling him that they would appear the second Paris left the relative safety of Voyager.

 _"Delta Flyer to Voyager,"_ Tom Paris's voice came through the speakers. _"We're ready for launch."_

"Permission granted," the captain responded, his eyes still fixed on the viewscreen. "Good luck."

 _"To you too. Delta Flyer out."_

"They've cleared the shuttle bay," Lieutenant Kim reported just moments later.

Waters reversed the angle on the viewscreen to show the area between Voyager's nacelles just in time to see the Flyer's departure. The small vessel banked off to Voyager's port side, and got about ten seconds of flying time in before all hell broke loose.

"Enemy vessels are dropping out of warp twelve thousand kilometres astern," Harry called out in what was now a practiced tone.

"Shields up!" To Lieutenant Henz, Chakotay directed, "Keep us between them and the Flyer."

"Aye, sir."

It was in their imaginations, but they could almost feel the ship bank and veer left. "Time to intercept?"

"Fifteen seconds."

"Number of ships?"

"Same as last time – eighteen," Waters jumped in.

"They're firing on the Flyer!"

"Return fire!"

In the cold of space, concentrated beams of light and energy pulsed out from Voyager's hull, desperately trying to hit as many small vessels as they could in order to provide cover for the Flyer long enough for them to go to warp. It wasn't nearly enough, and about ten of them were able to get through Voyager's fire pattern. In the Flyer, Tom was doing his best to dive and weave throughout the greenish-blue bolts that rained down on them, but they still took a number of serious hits. "Shields are down to eighty-five percent," Vorik calmly called out, his fingers flying across the console.

"Mike, can you take some of them out?" Paris questioned.

"Let me see!" His brow furrowed in concentration, Mike Ayala concentrated all of their firepower on the ship that was making a direct line for them, hoping that focusing on a single point would weaken its shields enough to punch through them. A few seconds' burst was enough, and a flame erupted from its bow. "Direct hit!"

"Confirmed," Vorik added. "Their shields are down."

Mike's elation abruptly disappeared. "And they're careening out of control – right toward us!"

"Hang on!"

Paris dropped their ship into a tight spin, narrowly diving out of the way of the oncoming wreck. It missed them, but then collided with one of its companions, splitting the second ship in two and sending one of its spinning halves right into the Flyer's flight path. With no time to react, the larger Starfleet vessel rammed into it nearly head on, a deafening crunch and squeal of strained metal filling the cabin as it tore its way along the hull. Sparks and smoke filled the air, and while Paris had managed to stay in his seat, the others had been thrown into the bulkheads.

Vorik was the first back at his station. "Serious damage along the starboard hull, but no breeches."

"How's the nacelle?"

"There is some damage, but it is still operational. I would not recommend a velocity exceeding warp four."

"I'll take it. Mike, you okay?" Paris hollered back over his shoulder as he tried to move them to a clearing where they could generate a warp field.

Though moving more slowly, Ayala climbed back up to his console. "Bloody and singed, but alright."

"See if you can get some of these assholes off our back for a few seconds so we can get out of here!"

"I'm on it!"

* * *

Voyager was being picked to death. The enemy ships seemed to be employing the same strategy that they themselves had used during their last encounter, concentrating their firepower on weakened areas of the shields. "Aft shields down to thirty-eight percent!" Waters announced.

"They're going after our propulsion systems," Harry concurred.

"Fire at will," Chakotay ordered, wishing he could go out there with a phaser himself. He was more than tired of this.

Harry kept firing in random patterns to try and knock off whoever was in range, but there just seemed to be too many to inflict any significant damage. He didn't even bother stating the fact – they all knew it. So he plugged on, doing the best he could under the circumstances.

"Where's the Flyer?"

Waters brought the visual up on the screen, where they could see that Paris was speeding away, closely pursued by three of the ships. "He'll never be able to jump to warp with them there," someone commented.

"Christina, get us closer," the captain ordered. "Harry, concentrate on disabling those three." He held onto the arms of his chair as they were tossed around, knowing he just put Voyager in significant danger. But in the heat of the moment, Chakotay knew that sending the Flyer for help was going to be the only way to finally resolve this situation. He watched as Voyager swooped in on the trio, orange phaser bursts raining down on them. A power conduit over the Ops station overloaded and blew, filling the bridge with smoke and sparks, but when he glanced back, he saw that a battered Waters was still at his station.

"Aft shields are down to six percent!"

Their attention on the ships pursuing the flyer was beginning to work. One of them already broke off, while the other two were starting to lose speed. "Come on, Tom…" Chakotay whispered. As if Paris heard him, the Flyer suddenly took off, leaving a wink of light in its wake. They were gone. "Concentrate all fire on the remaining ships!" he called out to Harry, then to Henz, "Get us out of here. Best speed."

He barely had the words out of his mouth when the entire ship lurched. "Aft shields are down!" Waters reported, a bit of panic creeping into his voice.

Seeing a vulnerable point, the remaining ships converged on Voyager's back section, or at least tried to, as Henz kept the ship spinning and turning to try and protect that side. The inertial dampers were beginning to strain, and most people kept their eyes deliberately away from a viewscreen or portal so that the spiraling starfield wouldn't make them sick. Lieutenant Kim kept on firing, though it was having little effect. "They're swarming us!" he reported, which was an understatement.

Shot after shot rained down on the hull, creating havoc in Engineering. Consoles exploded, bulkheads shattered, and flying debris caused injury after injury. One shot blew out the secondary power couplings, plunging the entire compartment into darkness. B'Elanna picked herself up off the deck, letting out a relieved sigh when she found herself able to do so, and when the red emergency lighting came on. She cursed when she heard the comm line open. _"Bridge to Engineering. Respond!"_

She slapped her commbadge as she clambered to her feet. "Torres here. What the hell happened?"

 _"One of the ships that we disabled slammed into the hull just aft of Engineering,"_ Chakotay's strained voice relayed. _"Status?"_

"Uh…Standby…" Weaving her way past a fallen beam, she went to two different consoles before she found one that was working. "Warp power is down!" she listed. "Impulse is damaged, but you can have up to half. Fractures all along the aft hull, and massive fluctuations in the port nacelle…" Hearing a cry of pain, she whirled around and saw that her staff was scattered throughout Engineering, all in various states of repose. "We've got injured here too."

 _"Understood."_

On the bridge, Chakotay turned to Kim. "How many are left?"

"Fifteen, Sir. They're regrouping for another pass."

The captain's brain was grinding, trying to find a solution. It hit him like a bolt of lightning. "Harry, let's set off a depth charge."

Kim thought for a moment. "An antimatter containment pod detonated with a photon torpedo would do the trick."

"Get on it. Bridge to Engineering."

 _"Torres here."_

"B'Elanna, I need you to prepare an antimatter pod that we can eject."

 _"A depth charge?"_

Despite the situation, Chakotay smiled to himself. It had been one of the first things she'd ever done for him on the Val Jean _._ "You got it. And we need it yesterday."

 _"I'm on it."_

The ship continued to spin and turn and dive as Henz did her best to keep out of the enemy's sights and buy them time. It took two critical minutes for B'Elanna to get the pod ready, but then she called. _"Engineering to Bridge. Depth charge is locked and loaded."_

"Photon torpedoes ready," Kim added.

"Launch the charge."

The pod, no larger than a piano, was ejected from the surviving launcher, its build-in engines guiding it toward the target. "Charge is launched," Waters confirmed.

"Fire!"

Three photon torpedoes sped toward the enemy ships, honing in on the depth charge. One of them missed both the charge and the fleet entirely, a second glanced off the shields of one of the ships. But the third found its target, igniting in a fireball that engulfed six of the closest vessels and blew the rest off course. "Five vessels destroyed," Harry reported, "one heavily damaged and adrift. The others are bugging out."

Chakotay let out a held breath. "Stand down red alert. Dispatch repair teams, give B'Elanna whoever she needs." As everyone got to work, he made his way back to the command chair, dropping down into it heavily and taking a moment just to breathe before activating his console to assess the damage. _We're down to three…_ he reminded himself of their severely low photon torpedo count. _Good luck trying that again._ His gaze wandered to the viewscreen again, now blessedly empty of enemy vessels. _Come on, Tom._


	12. Chapter 12

"Captain, we're receiving a transmission from President K'itar," the lieutenant who Kathryn couldn't remember the name of announced.

"Onscreen."

Both Picard and Janeway turned to face the screen, which switched to the grim face of the Daltrean leader. "Mister President," the captain greeted.

 _"We are receiving another transmission from the cast-offs right at this moment,"_ the leader explained.

"Can you transfer it here?" Janeway asked as Picard turned to Kadohata to make sure she was scanning for the radio signals they had detected previously.

They all waited for the message to start playing, including President K'itar on the split screen, surprised when it came with video this time. It was shot from the point of view of a small armada closing in on Voyager. _"This is the last you'll see of these interferers,"_ it droned on through the Universal translator, _"unless the Federation removes all ties to Daltrea immediately. It is the last warning."_ And just as quickly, it was done.

 _"I don't understand."_ K'itar was the first to speak. _"Those are not Daltrean vessels."_

The captain, admiral and a few others had both noticed one distinctly different type of ship which was partially out of the frame on the left hand side. "Computer, enhance Section A2 and magnify." The image on the screen shifted and zeroed in on the ship, where its unique features jumped out at them. "Computer, identify origin of ship design," Picard ordered.

 _"Unknown. Ship specifications do not match any known configuration."_

"Extrapolate based on unique identifiers," he pressed on.

It took the computer a moment to come up with the data they were looking for. It drew highlighting lines around the communications array, and began streaming information alongside it. _"Communications array of unknown vessel matches two of six known Tzenkethi designs."_

The two commanding officers looked at one another. _"Probability of match?"_ the admiral requested.

 _"Probability of match to known Tzenkethi design is eighty-two point six percent."_

 _"Tzenkethi?"_ the president repeated, having trouble with the 'th' sound. _"Who are they?"_

Kathryn looked back to a man who had just found himself thrust into intergalactic politics. "Someone who appears to have a serious problem with Daltrea joining the Federation, Mister President."


	13. Chapter 13

Things in the Delta Flyer were not going well. While they hadn't been pursued, the damage from the collision with the halved enemy vessel had put a significant damper on how fast or how easily the ship could fly. At the moment, Vorik was buried deep within the Flyer's engineering compartments, trying to hold it together until they could reach friendly territory.

In the cabin, Mike was at the helm, the joysticks in his hands as Paris, who was crammed in next to him, treated his damaged shoulder. The autopilot was out, so it left them with little alternative, but trying to treat injuries on a shoulder that kept on moving was not easy. The instruments he used were causing just as much pain as they were curing. "Sorry about that," he apologized after giving Ayala a significant jolt.

Through gritted teeth, the current pilot asked, "A pain reliever would be really good right about now."

Trying some bedside manner, Tom told him, "You should have thought about that before you volunteered to give it all to Vorik."

Mike concentrated on the readouts, just trying to keep a straight line going. "Yeah. Remind me never to do that again."

A series of beeps went off, making both of them look to the upper screen. "Thank god…" Paris breathed at the sight of a Federation ship finally showing up on sensors.

"Who is it?" his companion asked.

"Does it matter?" Tom smiled as he narrowed the details.

* * *

Because they were able to watch the last message in real time, Commander Kadohata was able to narrow its source down to a much smaller range outside of Federation space. Gathering the Gilmore, Talbot and L'Carr, the Enterprise was heading in that direction at low warp, allowing each vessel to scan in more detail for their wayward fleet member.

On the bridge, Picard and Janeway, along with the Enterprise's senior staff, were trying to determine just where the ships pursuing Voyager might have come from. There'd been no indication of Tzenkethi activity outside of their own borders – in fact, they were making it a point of keeping to themselves right now. But it was obvious that they were involved in this somehow.

"It doesn't make any sense," Worf grumbled. "Why would they want to interfere with a world that's so far out of their territory?"

"And why incorporate a Tzenkethi communications array on the outside of the ship?" Geordi LaForge added. "Tzenkethi ships are known for keeping their components beneath the surface of the hull."

"Maybe it's something as simple as just wanting to stir up trouble," the admiral mused. "While Daltrea would be a great asset to the Federation, it isn't as strategic as any number of other worlds."

An indicator on the communications panel started to ring. "Captain, I'm picking up a distress signal."

"On speaker."

 _"Delta Flyer to Starfleet vessel. We are damaged and in need of assistance. Please respond."_

Kathryn Janeway had never been so relieved to hear that voice in her life. She looked to Picard who, familiar with the ship in question, gave her a small nod. "Open a channel." The ensign in charge of communications did so, and the captain shifted in his seat as he responded, "Delta Flyer, this is the Enterprise. We have received your message and are on our way to intercept."

 _"Acknowledged, Enterprise. We're looking forward to it."_

* * *

Grateful didn't begin to describe Tom's feelings at the sight of the four ships that met them in the middle of empty space. The Enterprise's main tractor beam released the Flyer just as another from the shuttle bay took over, which gently set them down in the middle of the main traffic area. When they were able to finally open the back hatch and make their way out, they stopped abruptly at the sight of their welcoming party. The grin on Tom Paris's face shone through the grime on his face. "Admiral!"

She led Captain Picard over to greet them. "It's good to see you all."

"We're glad to be seen."

Now was the question she dreaded asking. "Voyager?"

"In rough shape, but still fighting." Tom, who knew Kathryn Janeway better than anyone else there, could see the relief that she couldn't quite hide wash over her. "They were under attack when we managed to slip out to try and get help."

"Do you have their last-known coordinates?" Picard asked.

"Yes, sir." Paris turned over the padd he'd been clutching in his hand. "But this fleet has been constantly forcing us to try and find hiding places so we could make repairs. It's a good bet that Voyager won't be at them when we arrive."

Picard frowned as he looked the information over. "No, but it's a more accurate starting point than what we have now." Tapping his communicator, he called out, "Picard to Bridge..."

As he gave orders for the fleet to get moving, Janeway looked over her trio of Voyagers. "Let's get you three to Sickbay."

Mike Ayala, who had been clutching at his bicep, gave her a slight smile. "Thank you, Admiral." Vorik merely gave a small bow in acknowledgement.

Paris filled the admiral in on the way to Sickbay. As the medical staff took Vorik and Ayala to treat them, Paris stood alongside the admiral as she observed. Now, the question that she held off asking could no longer be avoided. "Casualties?"

He huffed a deep breath. "Six," he confirmed. "Jason, Gro'thneksee, Anderson, Tha, Bates and Kensei." Seeing the pain that flitted through her features, Paris lowered his voice when he informed her, "He's okay. Or at least he was the last time I saw him."

Her head dropped for just a moment before coming back up to look at him again. "Thanks," she whispered, grasping his arm briefly. Then her countenance shifted back into command. "Once you're done here, clean up and report to me on the bridge."

He smiled. Some things never changed. "Aye, Admiral."

In the privacy of the nearest lift, Kathryn let herself sink back against the wall, burying her face in her hands as she allowed herself to feel pure, selfish relief for just a few moments. He was alive. After weeks of thinking just the opposite, Chakotay was alive, and despite the rational side of Kathryn Janeway that screamed at her that Tom's intel was two days old, she clung to that hope like a lifeline. They had to solve this mystery and find Voyager, because she had no intention of going on with the rest of her life without Chakotay in it.


	14. Chapter 14

The good news was that Seven finally found a nebula that would, in theory, provide some cover and give Voyager's crew time to get their repair levels back above fifty percent. The bad news was that it was another six light years away, and they were limping along at Warp 2, which meant a journey of five months if they couldn't raise their velocity. Doing as she always did, B'Elanna was looking for any way that would help speed up the schedule, though her frustration was beginning to reach its breaking point. Sue Nicoletti, who finally reached the end of her patience, bodily took her friend and escorted her out the door with directions to go and play with her daughter for half an hour so that the Engineering staff could get some work done without having their boss over their shoulder, trying to get things done faster. It was not a usual part of B'Elanna's leadership style, but even she recognized that it was stress-induced, and that she needed to take a break.

As Chakotay toured around the ship to see the damage for himself, the true enormity of their situation began to sink in. He was trying desperately to maintain an air of hope, but even his steadfast belief that they were going to get out of this was beginning to waver. Six dead so far. _That it's only six is a miracle in itself_ , he thought glumly as he stepped around a large debris pile that hadn't been removed out of the corridor yet. As he walked, he remembered how many times he walked through these corridors with Kathryn after a battle, desperately trying to figure out how they were going to pick themselves up and replace everything they'd just lost. The hardest ones though were the ones in which they'd lost somebody, and each death had eaten away at her, forcing her to compartmentalize her feelings until they couldn't escape 'the captain'. He'd done his best to help her hold onto herself, but it had been a losing battle. _Kind of like this one._

He didn't get any further before he was slammed into the wall, slicing his hand open on his way down to the floor. "Chakotay to bridge!"

 _"Kim here. We've got company."_

Clambering to his feet, not even noticing the blood, he ran for the lift. "Same number as before?"

 _"More."_ Harry's voice was filled with disappointment and anger. _"They're up to thirty now."_ It then changed to shock. _"Including two Tzenkethi ships!"_

Chakotay resisted the urge to curse aloud when the ship shuddered again. They hadn't been home long, but he certainly knew what that meant. "Return fire. I'm on my way."

Voyager lurched the second that he stepped onto the bridge, slamming his midsection into the railing that surrounded the command centre. Fighting for breath, Chakotay managed to call out, "Can we transmit?"

"Not yet!" Waters yelled out over the din, "but last report said about an hour away."

The captain staggered to his seat, desperately holding to the railing to keep from being thrown forward. "Bridge to Engineering!"

 _"Go ahead."_

"B'Elanna, we've got to get a distress call out. Make sure Nicoletti stays on the array."

 _"Already done."_

"Waters, send a distress call on all frequencies the second she's got it operational."

"Aye, sir."

Another huge jolt threatened to toss everyone around. "Return fire!"

With a significantly larger number of ships, the newly reinforced enemy fleet was moving to surround Voyager, their perimeter slowly closing in as it shifted to accommodate Henz's acrobatic piloting. Their previous tactic of concentrating fire on a single ship was no longer possible as the teardrop-shaped Tzenkethi ships opened fire to support the lesser craft. It seemed to shake the ship to its core, overloading Voyager's systems as the smaller ships tore at its hull.

"Evasive action Delta!" Chakotay shouted.

As the ship twisted and Henz managed to find a small opening to squeeze through, the comm sparked. _"Nicoletti to Bridge. You've got communications!"_

"Acknowledged!" Turning to Ops, the captain ordered, "Open a channel!"


	15. Chapter 15

"Captain, I'm getting an emergency distress signal on a Starfleet channel," Kadohata called out.

"Let's hear it."

Every breath was held as Captain Chakotay's voice filled the air. _"This is Captain Chakotay of the U.S.S. Voyager. We are under attack by Tzenkethi forces and require assistance. Repeat, this is Captain Chakotay of the U.S.S. Voyager…"_

The message cut off there. Picard turned to his own Ops station. "Location?"

A few tense moments passed as the commander analyzed the signal. After what seemed like an eternity, she reported, "Sixteen light years at bearing two six eight mark three three."

"Course laid in, sir," the helmsman said, not needing to be asked.

"Transmitting coordinates to the fleet," Worf added.

Picard leaned forward in his seat. "Maximum warp. Engage."

The Enterprise shot off into the dark, the Gilmore, Talbot and L'Carr in hot pursuit a few seconds later.

* * *

"They're coming around for another pass!" Harry called out.

"Henz, set course back to Daltrea, best possible speed," Chakotay ordered. "Harry, pick your targets for the last photon torpedoes."

"Aye, sir." Lieutenant Kim chose carefully, taking a moment to decide whether it was better to destroy the two smaller, weakened vessels that were fluctuating, or try and take out the weapons array on one of the Tzenkethi ships. With their sub-hull arrays, he knew he didn't stand much of a chance, but the larger ships were inflicting much more damage than the others. "Targeting the Tzenkethi weapons array on the starboard vessel," he decided.

"Fire!"

Two of the last torpedoes landed on their target, while the third ran into a smaller craft that had inadvertently flown into its path. They bloomed on the surface of the hull, but only seemed to cause cosmetic damage. "Direct hit, but minimal damage."

In retaliation, both Tzenkethi vessels opened fire, concentrating on the same point in the shields just above the bridge. At the same time, the smaller ships continued short bursts that concentrated on the already-weakened nacelle. Power systems started overloading everywhere, while the shields fluctuated and rapidly lost cohesion.

An explosion roared through the bridge, smoke and flame filling the air. Cries and groans of pain could be heard everywhere. "Engines are down!" Waters called out around bouts of heavy coughing. "We're sitting ducks!"

But the captain was not ready to go down without a fight. "Give it everything, Harry!"

The enemy fleet was already recreating their previous sphere to encompass Voyager, closing in and firing at will. The ship seemed to lurch with every hit, blooms of flame shooting from its hull wherever their disruptors managed to pierce it. They were losing fast, and were at risk for a core failure when Waters cried, "Captain, we're being hailed!"

"Onscreen!"

The viewscreen, through static, switched over to accept the call from Jean-Luc Picard. _"Voyager, this is the Enterprise. We're on our way. ETA in sixteen seconds."_

"I appreciate the effort, Captain, but I'm not sure we've _got_ sixteen seconds!" Chakotay replied, hanging onto his chair for dear life. Another explosion cut the communication, and a deep, deafening groan of metal twisting was all that anyone heard.

"Hail the Tzenkethi vessels." The channel opened. "Tzenkethi vessels, this is the Enterprise. Cease your attack at once, or we will be forced to open fire." They waited for a moment, but the barrage continued uninterrupted. Glancing at his communications officer, he said, "Open a channel to the fleet." At the officer's nod, he announced, "Picard to the fleet. Fire on all enemy vessels."

The fleet opened fire on anything in its path, driving some of the smaller vessels away from Voyager as the larger vessels continued to rain down on it. The larger lead vessels returned fire in earnest, but were no match for four fully-loaded and fully operational Starfleet ships. Without so much as a texted message, the Tzenkethi vessels turned and jumped to warp, leaving the smaller craft to their fates.


	16. Chapter 16

The rescue team from the Enterprise materialized in the centre of Voyager's bridge, Crusher and her medical team encircled by a security team and Geordi's engineers, along with Janeway and Paris, while Ayala and Vorik joined the other team who had beamed into Engineering. Squinting to try and see, the admiral moved to the nearest console to help Paris check the ship's status. Most of Voyager's systems were down, though life support was miraculously holding steady, along with emergency power. As the engineers started to take care of the smoke and extinguish the fires, they started to see a number of Voyager's bridge crew on the deck, beginning to move under their own power.

"Doctor Crusher, over here!"

She moved through the debris in a flash, grimacing when she saw what they were faced with. Captain Chakotay was pinned to the bulkhead by a fallen beam, blood already bubbling from his mouth due to lung damage. "Okay, just take it easy," she coaxed, her fingers reaching under his chin to check his pulse.

He coughed, trying to get breath into his lungs. "Crew…"

"Don't talk," she ordered as she ran her tricorder along his body.

By this time, the admiral had made her way over, barely keeping herself from crying out when she saw him. Careful to stay out of the medics' way, she reached out and gently grasped fingers that loosely held the beam. "Voyager is secured," she told him, steeling herself when she felt how cold his skin was. "The Tzenkethi fleet has disappeared."

Chakotay was determined to speak. "Will…" He coughed again, spitting blood, "be…back…"

She shook her head. "We'll be ready for them. Just hang on."

Crusher turned to the engineers. "We're going to have to cut him out of here."

"Crew…" he repeated again.

"Captain, we're going to take you to Sickbay," Beverly explained to him, "and we're going to take care of your crew as well. Just relax." She administered a hypo to his neck just as more engineering staff beamed in with larger equipment.

He fought as the sedative started to take effect, but stopped when his eyes connected with Kathryn's. He couldn't feel her holding his hand, but knew that she was there, and for the moment, that was enough.


	17. Chapter 17

Chakotay could feel his body's desire to wake up tugging at his unconscious mind, and it was bringing him closer and closer, layer by layer, despite his best interests to the contrary. Brightness slammed into him, making him groan as his head pounded in protest. There was a block in the brightness though, one that was fuzzy and hard to concentrate on.

"How do you feel?"

When the face finally came into focus, he concentrated on it for a moment before pain and disbelief made his eyes close. "I'm dead."

"You better not be. You owe me dinner."

He cracked his eyes open to find that she was now blocking the main light above him, making it easier to see. "Kathryn?"

She nodded and gave him a watery smile. "Yeah." Reaching to grasp his hand, she pulled it tight to her chest. "The Doctor tells me you're going to be okay."

His head relaxed back into the pillow, his eyes sliding shut again. "Easy for him to say."

"Actually, it's a her. You're on board the Enterprise."

His eyes flew open as he tried to sit up. "Voyager–!"

"Easy!" Two sets of hands pushed him back down to the bed. Now he noticed another woman – another redhead – standing above him, this one with a tricorder in hand as she compared its readings with the ones on the monitor above his head. "Your doctor was knocked offline," Beverly Crusher advised, one hand still resting on his shoulder to keep him in place.

"B'Elanna says he'll be okay, and she'll have him back up and running in a few hours," Kathryn assured him. "As for the rest of it…what's the big idea making such a mess of my ship, Captain?"

He gave her a wry look. "Your ship?" Licking dry lips, he reminded her, "You gave her to me, remember?"

Kathryn couldn't help but laugh as the tension started to drain from her body. "See if I give you anything ever again."

Deciding he had nothing to lose, he whispered, "Gave me your heart."

She briefly looked up at Beverly, whose eyebrows simply lifted before returning to her work. Kathryn shifted her attention back to him again, her other hand coming up to stroke his hair. "I expect you to take better care of it."

He drew a deep breath, the sound of her voice enveloping him like a blanket. "Yes, ma'am."

Crusher touched the admiral's arm. "It's time."

Kathryn nodded, then said to Chakotay, "I have to meet with President K'itar, but I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

He nodded, then mouthed, _Love you._

She leaned down and kissed him gently, her eyes meeting his when she breathed, "I love you too," before releasing his hand and striding out of Sickbay.

Crusher closed her tricorder and addressed him. "I need to perform surgery to finish reconstructing your ribs, so you'll be unconscious for about another two hours, Captain." He might have mumbled something like a yes, but he was already fading again when she pressed the hypospray to his neck to sedate him.


	18. Chapter 18

Kathryn was brought back to the present by the sound of a loud, lazy yawn. She smiled softly at him as his eyes found hers, and dulled by sleep, he frowned. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." She walked into the room, sitting down on the edge of the mattress next to him. "How do you feel?"

Chakotay rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he took stock. "Like I could sleep for a year. Still sore though."

Unable to help herself, Kathryn touched his cheek. "Do you how glad I am to hear you say that?"

He covered her hand with his own, the light that filtered in through the doorway glinting off the ring he wore. "Almost as glad as I am to hear you say it."

She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Think you've got room in here for one more?"

Chakotay smiled. "I was saving that spot for my wife."

Returning his grin, she quipped, "Well it's a good thing I'm her then."

He shifted over, holding the blanket back for her while she shed her robe, then covered her with it as he pulled her close. Breathing deeply, Kathryn settled in, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder and her arm snaking around his waist. They lay in silence for a while, until he started to chuckle. "What?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him.

"I just like the sound of that. 'My wife'."

She laid her head back down again. "I like hearing it…almost as much as hearing 'my husband'." They lapsed into silence, both thinking about the evening before, when things had finally settled down.

 _Kathryn was there to take Chakotay home when Doctor Crusher released him, home being her guest quarters on the Enterprise. She replicated a small dinner for them, which he was more than relieved to see after being stuck with ration packs the past few weeks. And after dinner, he left the table and slowly made his way over to the couch while she stopped at the replicator for after-dinner digestifs. "What happened to the ships we were fighting?" he asked her, taking the mug of tea that she offered._

 _"The Tzenkethi ships disengaged almost the minute we showed up," she said as she sat down beside him, "and left everyone else to fend for themselves."_

 _He nodded as he heard this, taking a sip before asking, "Who are they?"_

 _"Mercenaries for hire, as far as we can tell." She warmed her hands around her mug. "They're not talking. The one thing that we have determined is that they're not at all connected to Daltrea. In fact, all of the people they call cast-offs were accounted for on their world. The people we've captured have nothing to do with them, or their cause."_

 _Letting his head drop, he let out a long breath. "And the Tzenkethi?"_

 _She shook her head. "All queries to the Tzenkethi government have been silent. Our agents are apparently trying to dig up whatever they can on why you were attacked, but it could be a long time before we find out anything. If we do at all."_

 _"So in other words, it was all for nothing." His eyes squeezed closed. "Six people died for nothing."_

 _Kathryn reached over and rested her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry." Chakotay took the hand in his, looking at her with an expression she hadn't seen before. "What?"_

 _It was a while before he answered her. "After this experience, I think I owe you an apology."_

 _"Me?" she breathed, stunned that he would even think such a thing. "Why?"_

 _"Because all those years in the Delta Quadrant, I thought you were being unreasonable for never wanting to be in a relationship with me. I knew I was ready, but it always seemed like your Starfleet principles were so much more important to you than I was." His gaze dropped to their hands, where his thumb was absently running across her knuckles. "I understand now that it wasn't that, but just that ensuring the survival of the crew took all of your focus and energy. And I feel horrible for blaming you like I did. I'm sorry."_

 _His admission shocked her. "So am I," she said softly. "I wish I could have given you more." Seeing that he wasn't quite sure what to say, Kathryn pulled him into her arms and held him tightly, feeling him rest his forehead on top of her shoulder. He was drawing comfort from her, and she was more than happy to give it to him. When he finally pulled away, she was glassy-eyed when she told him, "But I'm ready for so much more now, if you are."_

 _It made him truly smile for the first time in days. "Definitely." He leaned down and kissed her, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands._

 _When they parted, she drew a deep breath. "Computer, location of Captain Picard."_

"Captain Picard is in his quarters."

 _"Is he asleep?"_

"Affirmative."

 _Chakotay's head cocked to the side. "Are you serious?"_

 _She shot him a coy look. "I am if you are."_

 _Though she thought it impossible, his smile grew even brighter. "I've never been more serious in all my life."_

And so they had woken Picard in the middle of what was ship's night in order to become husband and wife. No huge ceremony, nothing that anybody would have dreamed their wedding to be. But after so long, they had finally gained the one thing that had eluded them – love and the certainty that while it might be fleeting, it was theirs.


End file.
